


i wanted everyone to know that you're the girl for me

by allthisandheaven_too



Category: Atypical (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, track coach au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-10-10 13:06:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17426453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthisandheaven_too/pseuds/allthisandheaven_too
Summary: Casey is an ex-track star who makes a living as a track coach in suburban California after her career was cut short. Izzie is a single mom who has been running from her past for a decade. When her precocious daughter with a propensity for matchmaking joins Casey's middle school track team... well, you can guess the rest.aka the track coach au nobody asked for





	1. i.

**Author's Note:**

> This AU was co-created by me and Ces (sweettalien on tumblr) in literally less than 24 hours. She's also the beta reader for this fic, so she will make sure I finish it.
> 
> The title is from the song Time To Run by Lord Huron. (Because everybody in this fic runs, literally and metaphorically. Get it?)

“MomMomMomMomMom!”

Izzie glances up to see her ten-year-old daughter Luna running into the kitchen, socks slipping and sliding on the floor of the new apartment. “Yes?”

She stands up from the box of dishes she was unpacking. It’s the last of the load. After this she’ll finally be able to breathe a little, not to mention eat off of something other than takeout boxes.

Luna thrusts a sheet of paper into Izzie’s hands. “Sign-ups for the sixth grade track team opened up!”

Izzie’s brow furrows as she takes the sheet. “Isn’t September a little early for track?”

“Weeeeell, technically it’s not exactly a track team, since we can’t actually do sports until seventh grade. But it’s like a year-long training thing if you want to do track next year. It’s a new _pilot program_ ,” Luna says, her careful enunciation making it evident to Izzie that she has no idea what that means. “Please let me do it, Mom! Please!”

Izzie scans the form, emblazoned with the logo of Luna’s new middle school. “I don’t know, honey. It looks kind of intense.”

“The lady they have training us is the varsity coach at the high school and everyone says she’s super good. The kids at school say she almost went to the Olympics for track!”

Izzie raises an eyebrow. “And she wants to coach sixth graders in Walnut Creek?”

“ _And_ varsity,” Luna repeats, indignant.

Izzie returns her attention to the sheet. Sensing her mother’s resolve wavering, Luna plays her trump card. “It’ll be a great way for me to make friends.”

That does it. “Fine.” Izzie searches the kitchen counter for a pen as Luna squeals and bounces around excitedly. “But your grades are top priority, okay? If they start to slip, you’re out.”

“Yes okay thank you thank you thank you I love you!” Luna grabs the form, kisses Izzie on the cheek, and runs out again. Izzie bites her lip and smiles before picking up her cell phone to order pizza. She can’t muster the energy to cook tonight.

* * *

Casey stretches.

The girls are supposed to start arriving any minute, but right now she’s alone. Just her, the track, and the crisp September sky. She smiles and closes her eyes. The sun is warm, but the breeze has just a hint of an autumn chill. In other words, perfect running weather.

The sound of a car pulling into the high school parking lot breaks her reverie. She opens her eyes to see a little girl with long black hair in a ponytail leap out of a beat-up red Volvo and sprint towards the track gate. A woman who Casey assumes is her mother gets out of the driver’s seat more slowly. “Luna, your water bottle,” she calls.

The girl—Luna—freezes and turns back around to her mother, who waves her on and continues to walk towards the track with the forgotten bottle in hand. Luna spins around and dashes through the gate, screeching to a stop right in front of Casey.

“Hi,” she says, looking up at Casey and holding out her hand. “I’m Luna Wren Stevens.”

She speaks with the authority of a businesswoman, and it’s so absurd coming out of her small body that Casey wants to laugh, but instead, she smiles at the girl and shakes her hand. “Nice to meet you, Luna. I’m Coach Gardner, but you can call me Casey.”

Luna rocks back and forth on the balls of her feet. “Did you really almost go to the Olympics?”

Casey’s smile falters, slightly uncomfortable. Most of the students at the school knew about this, but they knew to never ask about it. This one must be new. “Um. Yes.”

Luna’s eyes grow to the size of small moons, and she seems ready to burst into a million questions, but then a voice calls, “Luna, come here.”

The woman from the car is leaning over the green wire fence that surrounds the track, dangling Luna’s water bottle from one hand. Luna sighs at the interruption and runs over to her. Casey follows behind to introduce herself.

“Be careful today. Don’t push yourself too hard,” the woman is saying to Luna as Casey approaches. She smoothes Luna’s hair with her hands. “If something doesn’t feel right, don’t be afraid to speak up, okay?”

“Mooooom,” Luna groans.

Casey comes up behind Luna. “Hi there. I’m Casey, the track coach.” She smiles, but it falters as she makes eye contact with quite possibly the most beautiful woman she’s ever seen.

The woman smiles back, but it’s not exactly friendly. She extends a hand immediately, and Casey sees where Luna got it from. “Izzie. I’m Luna’s mom.”

Casey takes her hand and shakes it, noticing how soft and cool it is. She hopes her own isn’t sweaty.

“So, Casey, I just wanted to mention that Luna has a tendency to take on more than she can handle sometimes,” Izzie says, gesturing to her daughter.

“Hey!” Luna protests.

As if Luna hadn’t spoken, Izzie continues, “I just don’t want her to get injured or something on her first day.”

Casey nods seriously. “I promise she’s in good hands.”

A few more cars pull into the parking lot behind them, and the rest of the girls start to filter onto the track. Luna looks back and forth between Casey and her mother. “Can I go now?”

Izzie finally smiles, a big brilliant grin directed solely at her daughter. Casey thinks it might be the most beautiful smile she’s ever seen. “Yes.” Izzie presses a kiss to Luna’s forehead. “Have fun, baby.”

As soon as she’s released, Luna turns and runs off to join the other girls. “Love you!” Izzie calls after her, to which Luna just raises a hand and waves without looking back.

Casey knows she should probably go over and introduce herself to the other girls, but she’s glued to the ground. The breeze tosses Izzie’s black waves in a way that Casey can only describe as reminiscent of a shampoo commercial.

“Five, right?”

Casey blinks. “Huh?”

Izzie is staring at her. “Pickup is at five?”

“Oh. Oh, yeah. Five.”

Izzie nods and turns to head back to her car. “See you then.”

“Nice meeting you!” Casey calls to her retreating back, but she’s too far away to hear by then. Casey exhales and goes to meet her girls.

* * *

“And  _then_ we did sprints and I won _all_ of them!” Luna babbles.

They’re sitting at the kitchen counter eating takeout from the Chinese restaurant down the street. Or, well, Izzie’s eating. Luna hasn’t taken a single bite of her sesame chicken. She hasn’t stopped talking about her first track practice since Izzie picked her up.

“That’s great, sweetie.” Izzie gestures to Luna’s untouched plate with her chopsticks. “Your food’s getting cold.”

Luna shoves a piece of chicken in her mouth and chews quickly, swallows, and says, “Casey said she’s never seen a girl as fast as me before. She said if I keep it up I can make varsity when I’m a freshman!”

The joy and the excitement Luna displays at discovering her talent for running are identical to those of Izzie as a middle-schooler, and it brings tears to Izzie’s eyes. As Luna wolfs down her food, Izzie makes a silent promise to do everything in her power to keep that joy alive.

* * *

Later that night, after Luna’s gone to bed, Izzie sits on the couch with her laptop and decides to do some sleuthing. When she’d read the name “Casey Gardner” on the permission sheet, it had sounded familiar, but she hadn’t been able to remember where she’d heard it before.

A quick google search confirms what she’d thought, and what Luna had alluded to. Casey had been a breakout star. Hailing from the tiny town of Newton, Connecticut, she’d carried her high school track team to nationals every single year she’d been on it. Her talents had landed her a full-ride recruitment to USC, where she once again carried the team to victory after victory. And yes, she was bound for the Olympics. There was no limit to how high her star would rise.

Until the injury.

This was where the information got fuzzy. She _had_ been injured, that much was certain, but sources were unclear as to how. It wasn’t a public injury, not a broken bone during a race or anything with witnesses. All that anyone knew was that she withdrew from Beijing 2008 shortly before they began, citing a major injury, and nobody ever heard from her again.

And now, she’s coaching Izzie’s daughter.

By the time Izzie has searched every social media site available for Casey’s profile (and come up empty every single time, even on Facebook), it’s one in the morning, and she has to be up for work in five hours. She sighs and shuts her laptop. As intrigued as she might be by the mysterious past of her daughter’s track coach, she needs to sleep more. Besides, she reasons, all this borderline stalking is probably just a side effect of her sleep deprivation and added emotional exhaustion from worrying about Luna all day. It’ll go away with a good night’s coma.

* * *

But the intrigue doesn’t go away. In fact, it worms its way into Izzie’s dreams that night.

Or rather, _she_ does.

Casey’s hands in her hair, Casey’s lips on her lips, Casey, Casey, Casey…

Izzie jolts awake at her 6am alarm, sweating and breathing heavily. She stares at the ceiling, wide-eyed and unmoving, as the truth sinks in: _I just had a sex dream about my daughter’s track coach._

“Mom, your alarm’s still going off!”

“Mom!”

“Mom!”


	2. ii.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luna begins phase one.

Luna is the fastest ten-year-old Casey has ever seen, period. She can run circles around every single one of the other girls in their drills, and laps them all twice when Casey has them do long-distance training. She flies over hurdles with the grace of a swan. Agility is a breeze. No matter what challenge Casey throws at her, Luna faces it (and then aces it) like a true champion.

After a week of this, it becomes clear to Casey that Luna is going to be a star. She wonders if Izzie is aware of how talented her daughter is, if she even knows anything about running. But Izzie had to have been a runner, once upon a time. This sort of skill was too concentrated to _not_  be genetic.

Casey tries to imagine Izzie running. Putting up her hair, bending over at the starting line, arms tense, waiting for the gun. Toned legs pumping in those tiny shorts…

She shakes her head. No. Incredibly unprofessional.

Izzie arrives to pick up Luna twenty minutes later, as usual the last of the parents to arrive. Casey wants so desperately to avoid eye contact. She’s never been good at hiding her feelings, and she’s worried Izzie will take one look at her with those piercing brown eyes and see every single impure thought Casey’s had about her since they met.

Izzie leans over the fence as Luna runs over to her, squealing “Watch me run some laps!”

“You’ve been running for hours,” Izzie replies, but there’s a tiny smile on her face as she tightens her daughter’s ponytail.

“Yeah, but you’ve never seen me run.”

“Come on, baby.” Izzie glances at Casey and quickly looks away, and… was that a blush on her cheeks? “Let’s go. I’m sure Casey has things to do.”

Casey shrugs. “I don’t mind.”

“See.” Luna darts backwards out of her mother’s grasp.

“Luna—”

“Just four!”

Casey leans back against the fence. “Trust me, you want to see this.”

She can feel Izzie looking at her again, but doesn’t trust herself to meet her gaze.

“Two,” Izzie finally says.

“Three, got it!” And Luna takes off before Izzie can get another word in.

Izzie shakes her head. “She’s too much.”

“She’s great.” Casey finally risks a glance at Izzie, who’s preoccupied with watching her daughter. “So,” she says slowly, “I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you about your daughter’s performance.”

“Oh?” Izzie says, not taking her eyes off Luna.

“Yes, she’s incredibly impressive for her age.” Casey pauses. Luna whizzes past them, emphasizing her point. “Actually, she’s just incredibly impressive in general. I don’t know if she told you, but I primarily coach track at the high school.”

“Oh, she told me.” Izzie finally turns to her, and there’s no smile, but her face is open. Not unfriendly. “She can’t stop talking about you. I don’t think I’ve seen her this happy in years.” Finally a hint of a smile. Casey swallows hard, trying to calm the butterflies in her stomach. “Do you really think she’s got a shot at varsity?”

Casey scoffs. “Varsity? I think she could go pro.”

Izzie is silent.

“The one thing she needs to work on is focus—” Izzie laughs and nods vigorously at that. “—but it’s not that big of an issue right now, especially given her age.”

They both turn back to watch Luna again.

“Would you maybe like to get coffee sometime?”

Casey wants to kick herself. Where the hell did that even come from? Who did she think she was, asking out a most likely straight, married woman for coffee?

She tries to backtrack, because Izzie’s whipped her head around to stare at her and is saying nothing and this will make for a very awkward semester if she doesn’t at least attempt to do some kind of damage control. “Um. To discuss your daughter. And her performance. And future.”

Izzie stares at her for another excruciating moment, then reverts her gaze to Luna, who’s coming down the home stretch of her final lap. “Okay.”

This is not at all what Casey was expecting. “Okay?”

Izzie shrugs. “If she really is as talented as you say she is, I want to do everything I can to help her.”

Luna screeches to a stop in front of them. “Time?” she pants.

Casey consults her watch. “Eight minutes. You’re slipping, Stevens,” she teases.

“No I’m not.” Luna eyes her mom guiltily. “I ran four.”

“Luna,” Izzie sighs.

“Hey, you didn’t even notice!” Luna says, rolling her eyes. “You were too busy talking to _Casey_.”

“Alright, speedy.” Izzie reaches out her hand to Luna. “Let’s go.”

Luna skips through the track entrance to join her mother on the other side and takes her hand. Izzie glances back at Casey one last time. “You have my number.”

Casey blinks. “I do?”

“The parental permission form.”

“Oh. Right.” Casey looks for something to do with her hands and ends up shoving them in the pockets of her sweatshirt. “I’ll text you, then.”

Izzie smiles, and it’s a real smile this time, huge and brilliant and beautiful. Casey’s heart leaps into her throat. “Looking forward to it.”

They head towards the red Volvo. Casey watches them drive away and wonders how she managed to pull that off.

She also wonders when she’ll stop smiling.

* * *

At the first Starbucks in Broadway Plaza, Casey nurses a soy latte and waits.

It’s Friday afternoon. She gives the girls today off, so it was the most logical time to meet. Izzie had said three was good for her, so Casey had arrived at 2:50 and grabbed a table. But it’s 3:20 now, and there’s still no sign of Izzie.

Casey sighs and pulls out her phone. She’s almost positive she’s being stood up but starts writing a check-in text anyway.

Just as she’s about to hit send, a text from Izzie comes through.

_Where are you?_

Casey raises an eyebrow.

**I was just about to ask you the same thing**

_You said the first Starbucks in Broadway Plaza, right?_

**yeah I’m sitting right here and don’t see you**

_That’s impossible. I’m sitting right here and I don’t see you._

Casey scans the interior of the coffee shop. It’s fairly small, and Izzie is nowhere to be seen.

**across from the Macy’s?**

_Macy’s?_

A pause, and then Izzie quickly follows up.

_Oh my god I’m at the wrong Starbucks. I’ll see you in two minutes._

Sure enough, in exactly two minutes the door opens and Izzie blows in, black pumps clicking against the linoleum. Her face lights up when she spots Casey and she walks over to the table.

“You said the first Starbucks,” she says, her tone mock-accusatory. She shrugs out of her blazer and drapes it over the back of her chair, and Casey tries to hide her shock at the lack of sleeves on the white blouse beneath.

“This is the first Starbucks,” Casey replies.

“Not if you’re coming from South Main.”

“Who comes from South Main?”

“Whatever. I need caffeine.” Izzie nods at the near-empty cup in Casey’s hands. “Want a refill?”

Casey shakes her head. Izzie smiles and gets in line, and Casey exhales. _It’s not a date,_  she reminds herself. They’re here to talk about Luna. Decidedly not a date.

* * *

Except an hour later, they’re still there, and the conversation has moved away from Luna entirely. If this isn’t a date, Casey doesn’t know what is.

“Do you like coaching?” Izzie asks, playing with her empty cup.

“I love it.” Casey thinks about her varsity team. The season hasn’t even started yet and they’re already gunning for nationals. They tell her so every time they see her in the halls. “The girls are so awesome. They teach me just as much as I teach them.” She laughs. “Sorry, that was incredibly cheesy.”

Izzie looks at her with soft eyes, and Casey melts. “No, it’s sweet.”

“We can’t wait for Luna to join us.”

Izzie chuckles. “Well, I don’t know about that.”

“Oh, come on, Izzie.” It’s the first time Casey’s said her name aloud, and it feels so natural in her mouth. “She’s crazy talented. There’s no question.”

Izzie bites her lip, trying to hold back a smile, but fails. “I know,” she says, the words bursting from her mouth in an excited whisper. “She’s really good, isn’t she?”

“Good doesn’t even come close.” Casey takes a deep breath. “You and her dad must be so proud.”

Izzie’s brow furrows, and then she laughs awkwardly. “Oh. No, it’s not— It’s just us.” She shrugs. “Always has been.”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know—” Casey splutters, mind spinning from both the social faux pas and the new revelation that Izzie was in fact not married.

“Don’t even,” Izzie says, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s not a big deal. Actually, we like it.”

“You know what they say. Boys ruin everything.”

“Oh my god, _yes,_ ” Izzie says emphatically, and Casey laughs, and Izzie smiles, and the thought crosses Casey’s mind that _this might just be a date._

* * *

Luna accosts her as soon as she walks through the door. “So, how was your date with Casey?”

Izzie narrows her eyes. “Don’t you have homework?”

“Did you _kiss_  her?”

“It wasn’t a date, wise guy.” Izzie pauses. “At least, I don’t think it was.”

“Oh, come on, Mom.” Luna runs up to her mother and grabs her shoulders, a comical image given that she has to stand on her tiptoes to reach. “I saw you giving each other heart eyes at the track the other day.”

“She’s very invested in your athletic success.” Izzie extricates herself from Luna’s grasp and pulls open a kitchen drawer. “And so am I. That’s all.” She holds up two takeout menus. “Chinese or Indian?”

Luna groans. “I’m sick of takeout.”

“Well, there’s nothing in the fridge, so I’m not cooking.” Izzie picks up her purse from where she’d set it on the counter. “Do you want to eat out?”

Luna wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. “Do _you?”_

Izzie’s jaw drops, her entire face morphing into one big blush.

Luna smirks and bolts for her bedroom before her mother has a chance to recover. “In-n-Out sounds great,” she yells over her shoulder.

* * *

The car ride is silent. Luna sits in the passenger seat with a shit-eating grin on her face the entire time. Izzie just stares at the road ahead wide-eyed, unable to process the fact that her sweet little baby girl somehow knows enough about sex to make a joke about her mother giving head.

They’re sitting in the booth with their orders when Izzie finally says, “Where did you even learn that?”

“Middle school is a cruel and unforgiving beast.” Luna takes a huge bite out of her burger. “It’s not my fault you sent me in there unprepared.”

And so, at 5:30 on a balmy Friday night, Izzie is forced to give her ten-year-old daughter the sex talk in an In-n-Out Burger.

When she finally finishes, Luna leans back in the booth and is silent for a minute.

“Do you have any questions?” Izzie prods.

“Do you or do you not want to eat Casey out?”

Izzie exhales heavily and massages her temples. “Just finish your food.”

Luna grins that same satisfied grin again and shoves the last of the fries into her mouth.


	3. iii.

From her spot on the ground, Luna sighs.

“Are you sure she didn’t say anything?” Casey asks. “Maybe she mentioned a late meeting or something that you forgot.”

Luna shakes her head and lays down on the track. “Nope.”

It’s Thursday, the last practice day before a long weekend, and Izzie is over half an hour late to pick up Luna. She’s never been this late before. Casey is mildly worried, even though she knows it’s not entirely justified. But Luna doesn’t seem concerned. She just lays there serenely, watching the clouds pass by overhead.

Casey sits down next to Luna. The rough rubber scratches at her legs. It’s October and getting colder, but it’s California, so that doesn’t mean much.

She thinks back to the last time she and Izzie got coffee. Over the past few weeks, it had become a regular thing. Every Friday when Casey was off from coaching and Izzie could get off work early, they met at the Starbucks Izzie still insisted was the second Starbucks in Broadway Plaza and talked for hours on end. Casey was far too nervous to ask if these qualified as dates, so to be safe she just kept telling herself they weren’t, despite the way Izzie would look up at her through her eyelashes, or the way she would lightly touch Casey’s arm whenever she laughed at something Casey said, or the way she smiled.

The last time, Casey had learned that Izzie had been a glorified corporate office temp for many years, a job that required her and Luna to move quite frequently. Recently she had taken a job as a receptionist-slash-general secretary at an office in the city, which would require them to stay here for a while. She told Casey that she’d done it to give Luna more stability, but Casey could read between the lines. A receptionist job was only slightly more committal than a temp job. If need be, Izzie could easily pack everything up and leave.

Casey hopes she won’t.

Luna sighs again, and Casey turns to look at her. “Does this happen a lot?”

“Sometimes.” Luna shrugs. “She’s worked at a lot of places. It’s different every time.” She looks at Casey. “Can you text her?”

Casey blinks, feigning ignorance.

Luna rolls her eyes. “I know you have her number. You guys go on dates every Friday.” She pushes herself up to a sitting position, ignoring Casey’s shocked expression and deepening blush. “In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t have a phone, or I would have done it already.”

“Does your mother think they’re dates?” Casey says slowly.

Luna avoids the question. “Can you just text her already? No offense, but I don’t wanna be here forever.”

Casey nods dumbly and pulls her phone out of her pocket.

**hello i have your child**

A minute passes before a reply.

_I hope you know that sounds exactly like something a kidnapper would say._

Casey wants to kick herself until the second message comes.

_I know I’m really late, I’m sorry. I’m stuck taking notes for this work meeting and it was supposed to be done an hour ago but it’s running over, as you could probably guess. I’ll be there as soon as I can._

**okay, rough eta?**

**she’s getting antsy**

_She’s always antsy. Thirty minutes? Forty max?_

**ok see you soon**

Casey turns to her tiny charge, now flat on her back again. “She says thirty minutes.”

“M’kay.” Luna kicks her legs up in the air and rocks her body forward like an overturned beetle until she’s sitting up. It’s definitely the most creative way to sit up that Casey has ever seen. “So what are we gonna do?”

* * *

 Sealed inside a stall in the office’s women’s bathroom, Izzie groans. Her blood boils with frustration at the helpless executives that refused to learn how to take their own goddamn notes, but it’s not nearly as horrible as the stomach-curling embarrassment building low inside her at having to face Casey after essentially forcing her to watch her own daughter for an hour. She cradles her phone in her hands. A photo of Luna at six years old smiles up at her from the lock screen.

Izzie can’t help it. She begins to cry. What kind of existence is this?

She hears the door creak open, and then a male voice calls, “Hello? Isabel?”

Izzie sniffs and wipes her eyes with the palm of her free hand. “Izzie,” she says, voice watery. “I’m sorry. I’m coming.”

“Izzie.” A brief pause, and then the voice says, “Are you alright?”

Izzie scoffs. She pulls some toilet paper out of the dispenser and blows her nose. “I was supposed to pick up my kid from track practice an hour ago, who I already don’t see enough because of this job, but I’ve been stuck in this stupid fucking meeting since four and it’s not showing any signs of ending and I just want to go home and see my daughter.”

Silence.

Just as Izzie thinks she’s about to be fired instantly, there’s a gentle knock on the other side of the stall. She looks down and sees a pair of black men’s dress shoes, polished to a shine. She takes a shaky breath and pulls back the lock.

A truly handsome man stands there, a mess of dark curls atop his head that seem all too unruly for a corporate drone. His hazel eyes flash with a certain sort of magnetism that elicits a soft, unexpected gasp from Izzie. He smiles at her sympathetically. “You’d better get home before you spread that stomach bug to the rest of us.”

Izzie furrows her brow. “What?”

The man looks pointedly at the clean, empty toilet behind her. “Even if it’s just food poisoning, better not to risk it.” He winks, and Izzie suddenly, finally understands. He’s giving her an out.

“Thank you,” she sighs, “um... what did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t.” He steps back to allow her to pass. “Nate.”

“Thank you, Nate,” she repeats, and heads for the door.

He just smiles again. “Feel better.” He lingers. “Izzie.”

* * *

Izzie breaks the speed limit to get to the track and finally pulls into the parking lot, burning rubber. It’s almost six. She nearly trips over herself trying to get to the track gate. When she finally reaches it, she’s greeted by an incredible sight: Luna and Casey are... racing? Sprints, it looks like. They’re all the way on the other side of the track, and neither of them appears to have noticed her yet.

Izzie leans on the fence, trying to catch her breath, and watches them run. Even from here she can see Luna’s grin, the biggest it’s been in years. Her heart swells, her bones go liquid. Tears spring to her eyes again, and she forces them down.

Luna rounds the corner and notices her then. “Mom!” she shouts, picking up speed exponentially. Behind her Casey slows, clearly giving up.

Then her daughter is in her arms, sweaty and squirming and oh so comforting, and Izzie showers her in kisses.

“Ew,” Luna protests halfheartedly, but hugs her mother tighter.

Casey finally catches up to them, panting. Izzie relinquishes her hold on Luna, who dashes off to collect her water bottle and backpack.

“I’m so sorry,” Izzie says. “Thank you so much for watching her.”

Casey waves her apology off. “It was my pleasure,” she says, still breathing heavily.

Izzie laughs. “So she beat you, huh?”

“Oh god, it wasn’t even close.” Casey stretches, and Izzie pretends not to notice the sliver of skin revealed as her sweatshirt rides up. “I know I’ve said this before, but that is one fast girl.”

The fast girl in question pops back up beside them, sipping calmly from her water bottle. “I’m hungry,” she announces. “Can we go to In-n-Out?”

Izzie smooths Luna’s hair back from her face. “Whatever you want, baby.”

She looks at Casey, who is still stretching, and it just slips out. “Want to come?”

Luna and Casey both stare at her. “Oh, well…” Casey starts.

“If you're not busy.” Izzie smiles. “My treat. For watching Luna.”

Luna hears her name and snaps out of her shock. She turns to Casey, already bouncing. “Yeah, come with us! It’ll be fuuuun.”

If Izzie isn’t mistaken, Casey is blushing. “Alright.”

Luna’s face lights up. “Shotgun!” she yells, and runs ahead to the car.

Casey and Izzie look at each other, and then they both start to laugh.

“I’ve been exiled,” Casey says.

Izzie rolls her eyes. “She knows very well she’s not allowed to sit in the front when we have guests.”

“Oh, so I’m a guest?” Their shoulders knock against each other accidentally as they walk to the Volvo. “What is this, the shittiest, reddest hotel?”

“Don’t bully my car.”

“There’s duct tape on the bumper.”

“It turns on. I can’t ask for anything else.”

Luna sticks her head out of the backseat window. “You’re staaaarving meeeee,” she groans.

“What happened to shotgun?” Casey asks, pulling open the passenger seat door.

“I decided you can sit in the front.” Luna leans back in her seat, arms crossed. “Just for today though.”

Izzie scoffs, turning the ignition. “Yeah, alright.”

Luna peers through the window at the empty parking lot as Izzie pulls out. “Casey, where’s your car?”

“Oh, it’s at home.”

“How do you get here, then?” Izzie asks.

Casey shrugs. “I run.”

“You’re so cool,” Luna sighs from the backseat.

Casey chuckles and glances over at Izzie. Her stomach does gymnastics at the tiny smile on her lips.

* * *

The next day, when Izzie gets to work, there’s a post-it-note on her desk.

 _If you can keep food down, have dinner with me this weekend?_ Below that is a phone number, and then the letter N.

Izzie bites her lip and grins.


	4. iv

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for child abuse, both verbal and physical.

Casey is taking the girls through an agility exercise when she hears the sound of a car. She looks up to see a shiny black BMW roll into the parking lot. Her brow furrows. It can’t be a parent, not this early. There’s still half an hour of practice left.

The doors open. Out of the driver’s side steps a tall man in a crisp suit, with dark, curly hair. Out of the passenger’s side steps…

“Izzie?” Casey murmurs.

“Coach Gardner, I have to pee,” one of the girls whines.

Casey waves her off. “Go ahead.” She turns to the rest. “Okay, everyone stretch for now. We’ll move to endurance next.”

Ignoring the groans of the girls, Casey sneaks a look at Izzie. She’s leaning against the fence now, with the mystery man right beside her. She waves.

“I’ll be right back,” she says, and walks over to the fence. Luna watches, frowning deeply.

“Hey, what are you doing here so early?”

Izzie grins. She takes hold of the man’s arm. “Casey, this is Nate.”

He smiles brilliantly and extends a hand. “Izzie tells me you’re the real deal. I just had to see you in action.”

Casey shakes his hand. Izzie’s still smiling so big, and Casey is finding it very difficult to understand what’s going on, or to keep herself from screaming.

“Well, today’s not going to be very exciting. We’re just working on skills.” Casey shrugs and hopes she looks apologetic enough. “Sorry you came all this way. You’re welcome to watch them do push-ups, though.”

“Ah, can’t you just make them race once?” Nate says. “I want to see if the kid’s as fast as Izzie says she is.”

“Guess you’ll just have to take her word for it.” Casey smiles thinly and begins to turn away, but Izzie says, “Come on, just one sprint. Please, Casey?”

Despite her better judgment, Casey looks back into Izzie’s imploring eyes, knowing her resolve will break. “Fine.”

She walks back to the girls. “Change of plans. We’re doing sprints first.”

The girls cheer, none louder than Luna. They line up around the track, fidgety with excitement. Casey glances over at Izzie, her hands still wrapped around the arm of the businessman, and blows the whistle.

After practice, Luna comes running over to the watching adults. “Did you see me? Did you see me? I think I broke my record! Casey, I broke my record, right?”

Casey checks her watch and smiles. “7:58.”

Luna pumps her fist in the air. “Yes!”

“You should watch your form.”

Everyone turns to stare at Nate.

“You seemed a little stiff,” he continues, oblivious to Casey’s narrowed eyes and thinning patience. “You might be able to go faster if you loosened up.”

Luna looks up at Casey, at a loss. Casey takes a deep breath and lets it out. “She runs an 8-minute mile at ten years old. She’s the fastest girl I’ve ever met.”

Nate makes this face like he doesn’t quite believe her, like he hasn’t just watched Luna run circles around her peers for twenty minutes. “She still looks tight. She could get hurt running like that.”

“I would _never_ let any of my girls do something that would hurt them.” Casey looks at Luna, who is staring at the ground. “And with Luna especially, there’s nothing wrong with her form.”

“Weeeeeell,” he drawls, “I used to watch the track meets religiously during the Olympics, so I know a thing or two about running myself.”

Casey places a hand on Luna’s shoulder and stares at him, lip curling in a satisfied smirk. “I went to the Olympics.”

It’s not the full truth, but it’s worth it to watch the blood run from the guy’s face. Besides, she did qualify. He raises his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I was just making a suggestion. But clearly you know what you’re talking about.”

“Clearly.”

Izzie forces a smile and changes the subject. “Luna, baby, come on. Let’s go home.”

Luna doesn’t look up. “Bye, Casey,” she says quietly, and crosses through the gate to her mother.

Casey watches the three of them walk back to the car. Nate still appears to be talking to Luna, and from the way her tiny shoulders slump, she suspects it’s more criticism. She thinks about his shining, smarmy smile and frowns.

* * *

Luna sighs theatrically. “I feel like we’ve been here before.”

Casey and Luna are lying beside each other on the track. It’s half an hour after practice, and Izzie still hasn’t come to pick her daughter up. She hasn’t texted Casey either, which is unusual. After their first coffee date, she always texted Casey her ETA, even if she wasn’t going to be late.

“Maybe she’s stuck in traffic.” Casey shrugs. “We can wait another few minutes and then I can try to call her.”

“Don’t bother.” Luna rolls over a few times, just for something to do. “She’s going to be at work until seven. She told me.”

“Then—”

Luna wrinkles her nose. “ _Nate_ was supposed to come get me. But I guess he forgot.” She huffs. “Typical.”

Casey bites her lip and sits up. Luna hasn’t really mentioned anything about Nate, which is unusual for her. But since the day Casey met him, she’s noticed that Luna has been more withdrawn at practice. It hasn’t been dramatic, but it’s noticeable, which is worrisome enough. “So, how do you like him?” she says, as casually as she can manage.

Luna sits up too. “I don’t.”

“Oh.”

“But my mom’s happy.” Luna shrugs. “So.” She picks at her cuticles. Casey’s never seen her do that before.

“Does he…” Casey pauses, unsure how to continue.

Luna seems to understand, though, and shakes her head. “No. He’s just weird. He says weird stuff, and it makes me feel bad sometimes, especially when it’s about running. But my mom says he’s just trying to help.” The skin around her thumb lifts and begins to bleed. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s right. I mean, I’m not you.”

Casey doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries, but she’s furious at this man and Luna looks so small and it kills her that anyone could make her doubt herself. “Well, he’s right about one thing. You’re not me. You’re better.” Luna says nothing, so Casey plows on ahead. “You’re so much faster than I was when I started running in _high school_ . You’re a natural. It’s not…” She places a hand on Luna’s back. “Don’t listen to him, alright? Or anyone else. Hell, don’t even listen to me. I’m sure I’m understating how good you are. _That’s_ how good you are.” She pauses. “I’m going to call your mom and let her know I’m taking you home, okay?”

Luna nods. Then Casey hears her sniffle, and though her heart is breaking, she senses that what Luna needs isn’t a hug, but space. They’re alike in that way, too. She rubs Luna’s back a little awkwardly and rises. She walks a few steps away and leaves a voicemail on Izzie’s phone, then returns to Luna, who hastily wipes away her tears. “How do you feel about ice cream?”

Ten minutes later, they’re sitting across from each other at a picnic table outside of the Maggie Moo’s near Casey’s house. They have to walk back there to pick up Casey’s car later, and Luna spotted the store on the way. She got cotton candy with gummy bears mixed in and attacks it like a starved animal, blue dye smearing all over her face. Casey eats her rocky road a little more civilly, but there’s something she can’t stop thinking about. She decides that asking would be the responsible thing to do.

“Why don’t you tell your mom?”

“About Nate?”

Casey nods.

“She wouldn’t believe me. He usually doesn’t do it around her.”

“I think you should give your mom more credit than that.”

Luna shrugs sadly. “She’s really happy. I don’t want to ruin it.”

She goes back to work on her cone. Casey leans back on the seat and watches her, and wishes that things get better.

* * *

Izzie and Nate enter the door of Izzie’s apartment, laughing and kissing and laughing some more. Luna trails behind them. It’s Saturday. They spent the morning in the city, which she usually loved doing, but Nate insisted on taking them to a boring art exhibit with a bunch of paintings of old dead people that all looked exactly the same instead of going to the aquarium, like her mother had promised her a week ago that they would do. He said it would be good for Luna to “experience some culture for once.”

Luna makes a beeline for her bedroom as Nate pushes her mother against the counter and kisses her, like her daughter isn’t even there. Izzie tries to push him away, but weakly, until her phone rings with a reminder. She fishes it out of her pocket and blows her hair out of her face. “Oh, shoot, I have to go to the post office. Can you watch Luna?”

Nate groans dramatically. “I’m not a babysitter.”

Izzie puts on her best puppy-dog pout. “Please?”

He sighs. “Fine.”

Izzie grins and kisses him quickly. “Thank you.” She grabs her purse from the table. “Luna!”

Luna comes bounding out of her bedroom. “Where are you going? Can I come?”

“Just the post office, and maybe the store. Nate’s going to watch you while I’m gone, so be good.”

Nate waves at Luna from his spot on the couch. Izzie heads to the door, oblivious to how her daughter deflates. “I’ll be back in a few.”

The door closes. Luna and Nate stare at each other from across the room.

Finally, Luna crosses her arms. “I don’t like you.”

“The feeling’s mutual, kid. But you’d better get used to it. I’m not going anywhere.” Nate walks over to the fridge and pulls out a beer.

Luna narrows her eyes. “It’s eleven AM.”

“How else do you expect me to make it through watching you?”

Luna huffs and storms off to her room. Nate sighs. As annoying as the little brat is, he knows he can’t push her too far. Her mom will be back soon, and he doesn’t really want to have to explain to her why her daughter is sulking around. He takes a swig of his beer. “Hey, kid, come back.”

A faint “You suck!” comes from down the hall. He rolls his eyes and walks over to her door.

“Look,” he says, “you wanna play that dancing video game you like so much?”

A pause. “With you?”

“Absolutely not.”

“So you’re gonna give me unsupervised TV time.”

“Uh, yeah.”

The door opens a crack, and she’s looking at him with suspicion. He steps back, hands up. “I’ll be on the balcony. You do whatever you want.”

She scoots past him without so much as a “thank you.” He exhales and follows her back to the living room, letting himself onto the balcony as she fiddles with the television and then starts to dance, bouncing wildly around. He shuts the door to mute the blaring pop music. The fresh air makes the beer taste even better.

He has a whole five minutes of peace and quiet before a loud crash erupts from inside the house. He slams open the screen door and bursts in to find Luna staring in shock at the shattered remains of a lamp.

“What the hell?” he yells.

Luna blinks, eyes wide. He’s never yelled before. “I was dancing and I just sort of, I knocked it over…”

He storms over to her, eyes blazing, and Luna realizes just how tall he is. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”  

“I didn’t mean to,” she says, her voice tiny. “It was an accident.”

He grabs her by the wrist, hard, and yanks her up so her feet are almost off the ground.

“Let me go,” Luna yells, thrashing her little body wildly around in an attempt to escape. But he only tightens his hold, and she lets out a tiny gasp.

“I leave you alone for one second and you’re already trashing the place. Are you trying to make me look bad?” He shakes her, and as hard as she tries to hold it back, she begins to cry. “Your mother’s going to kill me.”

“You’re hurting me,” she whimpers.

He sneers at her. “You’re going to do what I say from now on.” When she doesn’t reply, he squeezes harder. “Got it?”

Tears stream from Luna’s eyes. “Yes.”

He lets go, dropping her unceremoniously on the ground. She lands on a small shard of the lamp and lets out a small yelp as it slices through her skin. He kneels down next to her. “Clean this up,” he hisses.

And then he’s gone. Luna peels herself up off the ground. The tiny cut on her leg is bleeding, and a bruise is already blooming on her wrist. She swallows hard, willing herself not to cry, and begins to collect the pieces of the lamp from the ground. She has to tell her mother. She has to.

But she’s in the bathroom trying to clean off her cut when her mother finally comes home, and he gets to her first. She hears him spinning lies with his golden tongue. She can practically see the way his eyes glitter when he tells her, “Yeah, she got a little excited while playing her game, and I told her to be careful, but she knocked the lamp over and got a little banged-up.”

“Oh no,” Izzie says, but she sounds more entertained than concerned.

“Don’t worry, I took care of it.” He shrugs. “She was a little shaken, but I think she’s fine now.”

“Well, it was just from Ikea. It’s not a big deal.”

Luna hears the sounds of keys jangling, of grocery bags rustling, and then of people kissing. She sits on the toilet lid and begins to cry again. She’s getting good at doing it quietly.

* * *

At practice on Monday, Casey knows immediately that something is wrong. She could tell from the second Luna arrived and didn’t say hello to any of her friends, instead going off to stretch on her own. As practice wears on, she rolls her eyes at the other girls’ questions, more or less ignores Casey’s instructions, and doesn’t say a single word.

And then, while they’re sprinting, the impossible happens: her shoe catches on something, even though there’s nothing there, and she stumbles, and trips, and falls.

Casey runs over to where she lies, clutching her wrist and yelling at Angela, the girl that had been behind her.

“You pushed me!” she screams.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes you did!”

“I was nowhere near you!”

Casey blows her whistle, and everyone stops what they’re doing except for Luna, who keeps yelling “You pushed me!”

“That’s enough.” Casey pulls Luna up. “All right, everyone else go get started on endurance.” The girls stare at her, and she widens her eyes and waves them off. “Go.”

They scatter and begin their workouts.

She looks at Luna, who refuses to meet her eyes. “Now, we’re going to have a chat.”

* * *

Izzie arrives to pick up Luna on time, and alone. She waves excitedly at Casey when she sees her. Luna barely says hello to her mother before heading for the car. Casey seizes the opportunity. “Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” She eyes Luna, who is trudging dejectedly across the parking lot.

Izzie doesn’t seem to notice. “Yeah, of course!”

“I have some concerns about Luna.”

“What kind of concerns?”

Casey takes a deep breath. “She was acting out in practice today—”

“I’m so sorry,” Izzie interrupts, but the look Casey gives her makes her fall silent.

“When I spoke to her about it, she told me some pretty disturbing things about your boyfriend and how he’s been treating her.” Casey shoves her hands in the pocket of her sweatshirt to hide her clenched fists. “The bruise on her hand is from him. He grabbed her and was screaming at her about a lamp or something? I don’t know, I’m sure you know more than me about that.”

Izzie stares at her. The expression on her face is one of pure horror.

“He’s also said some upsetting things to her, apparently. She didn’t tell me any real specifics. She just said that he’s always mean to her when you’re not looking, so she didn’t tell you because she didn’t think you would believe her. I’m not, like, big on telling other people what to do, but it’s really affecting her and I think you should really talk to him. And her.”

Izzie’s eyes well with tears. She swallows hard and swipes at her cheeks. “Um. Thank you for telling me, I… I have to go.”

She turns and walks back to the car. Casey watches her leave, hoping she’ll do the right thing.

* * *

The ride home is quiet. Luna stares out the window blankly. The bruise on her wrist has deepened and gone slightly green. Izzie feels herself seconds from sobbing, or vomiting, or dying. How could she not have noticed?

She tightens her grip on the steering wheel and then spins the car around in a violent U-turn.

“Mom!” Luna shouts, grabbing at the handle over the car window.

Izzie doesn’t answer and pumps the gas. They speed into the city and Izzie doesn’t slow until they pull up in front of an apartment building Luna immediately recognizes. Nate’s.

Izzie checks her reflection in the mirror, then turns to Luna. “Stay here, sweetie.”

“Mom, what are you _doing?_ ”

Izzie smooths Luna’s hair back from her forehead and kisses it, then gets out of the car and marches up to the lobby door. She slams the buzzer. A few minutes later, he comes to the door, a smile on his face that vanishes when he sees the expression on her face. Luna watches with interest as her mother presumably begins to yell, though she can’t hear anything from this distance. Nate looks perplexed, then angry, then he tries to grab Izzie. Luna’s wrist aches in sympathy. Izzie rips her arm away, and then the unthinkable happens— he winds his hand back and slaps her across the face.

Izzie reels, holding her cheek. The doorman rushes over and pulls Nate back. Izzie points to him and says something Luna can almost hear, and then she turns and walks, then runs, through the lobby and through the doors and back to the car and to Luna.

As soon as she enters the car, her daughter throws herself at her and begins to cry, wailing long and loud that Izzie hasn’t heard from her since she was a toddler. She wraps her arms around Luna and holds her tight against her chest. “Shh,” she murmurs. “Shhh. It’s all right. I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.” Her tears run down her cheeks and soak into her daughter’s hair. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers again and again, because she knows if she doesn’t whisper she’ll sob, and only Luna deserves to be sobbing right now. “Please forgive me.” She doesn’t know if she says this or thinks it. Regardless, Luna doesn’t respond.

“I wanna go home,” she cries instead. “Can we please go home?”

“Yes.” Izzie presses her lips to Luna’s hair. “Yes, my love. Let’s go home.”

* * *

Late that night, Casey’s phone buzzes.

_Thank you._

She lets out a sigh of relief.

**anytime.**

**Author's Note:**

> Wanna chat? Find me on tumblr: brig-lundypaine


End file.
